


Love With Me

by coyg_81



Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: 8th year, F/M, Living Together, Mutual Pining, Valentine's Day, Valentine's Day Fluff, fic exchange fest, making amends, present day, small amount of smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-13
Updated: 2020-02-13
Packaged: 2021-02-28 04:28:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,706
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22697881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coyg_81/pseuds/coyg_81
Summary: Draco and Hermione make amends during 8th year. Feelings develop, but who will be the first to admit it?
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy
Comments: 18
Kudos: 175
Collections: Strictly Dramione Valentine’s Day Fic Exchange Fest





	Love With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [WordsmithMusings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsmithMusings/gifts).



> Written for Strictly Dramione's Valentine's Day Fic Exchange Fest 2020.
> 
> Exchange partner: WordsmithMusings
> 
> Prompt: "I just love you and it terrifies me!"
> 
> Beta'd by The Otter and The Dragon. Sorry for the 24hr turn around. I appreciate it x
> 
> I hope I did the prompt justice WordsmithMusings! x

**Love With Me**

**~o0o~**

_Granger,_

_When are you coming home? I’m going out of my mind here. This place… I can’t stand it! It’s slowly suffocating me. Everything here reminds me of bad times._

_Father keeps hinting that I should be courting a proper ‘Lucius Malfoy approved’ witch by now, and Mother… Merlin, Granger, I can’t listen to her anymore. She keeps mentioning wanting grandchildren! Fucking grandchildren!!! I’m only 19. Can you really see me dating some vapid, airheaded, pure-blood bint with the intention of furthering the Malfoy line? No? Me either._

_Anyway, how’s the course going? I may have found us a place to live._

_Owl me back when you can!_

_Malfoy_

~o0o~

Hermione laughed reading Draco’s latest letter. She could just imagine his face as Narcissa pestered him about grandchildren. Poor Malfoy! He was suffering without her around for him to annoy. Lifting a dainty china cup to her lips, she sipped her morning tea pondering just where he’d viewed an apartment for them. 

She still couldn’t contemplate the turn her life had taken after the end of the war. 

Returning to Hogwarts to finish her missed year, Hermione hadn’t factored in the force with which Draco Malfoy had so easily slotted himself into her life… and her heart. 

~o0o~

**_Flashback to eighth year…_ **

A week after starting school Hermione had been in the library, studying in the corner she had commandeered since first year. The clearing of a throat brought her attention out of her Charms essay and her eyes up to those of Daphne Greengrass. 

“Can I help you, Greengrass?” Hermione asked warily, not knowing what to except from the willowy Slytherin. 

“Would you mind if I sat down?”

“N-no, not at all. Please,” she answered, indicating the seat opposite her. “How can I help you?”

Daphne was silent for a moment, staring intently at the curly-haired witch across from her. She took a deep breath before speaking. 

“I know you may not believe what I’m going to say, but please hear me out.” 

Hermione nodded, waiting for the clearly nervous witch to continue. 

“As you may or may not know, my family were neutral during the war. My father refused to join the cause for You-Know-Who and, even though we didn’t side with the Order, we were pleased he lost. And, well… I’ve always admired you, Hermione.”

“Really?” Hermione asked in surprise. 

“Yes, really. I’ve always thought that we could have been good friends if our situations weren’t what they were, and now the war is over I’d like it if we could… perhaps… spend some time together.”

Hermione was shocked. She never would have expected the girl before her to say something like that. Although in retrospect, Daphne had never said anything derogatory to her through their school years. She’d always come across as a quiet and studious sort of person, keeping her head down and out of any trouble that her fellow Slytherins had caused. Hermione had nothing against the girl and couldn’t see why taking her up on her offer would cause any problems. 

Without Harry and Ron returning, she had the perfect opportunity to branch out in her friendships. She had told herself she’d keep her head down, study hard, and complete her schooling without any issues. But what was the harm in seeing where this might go? 

“I think I’d like that, Daphne,” Hermione smiled, noticing the Slytherin girl’s shoulder relaxing at her words. 

“Great. That’s great. So, what are you studying?” Daphne returned Hermione’s smile, gathering her school books from her bag and setting them out in front of her. 

“Charms, at the moment,” Hermione answered, watching Daphne look for her own Charms book before they both settled down to do homework together. 

As the weeks went by Daphne and Hermione found they had a great deal in common, despite coming from completely opposite worlds. They had the same interests in their studies and both hated flying and Quidditch. Daphne was also an avid reader so they found themselves quite often discussing books, Hermione even lending the pure-blood witch some Muggle novels. 

The only downside to her newly found friendship was one Draco Malfoy. Daphne had informed Hermione that Draco was one of her best friends and, with only him, Daphne, and her boyfriend — Theodore Nott — returning from their year for Slytherin House, Hermione had found herself studying in the library with the three. She and Draco had so far managed to avoid any confrontation — both of them pointedly ignoring the other. 

Theo had found this hilarious, trying to get a rise out of them when they were together, with Daphne playing peacemaker. So far neither had bitten at Theo’s constant wind-ups but Hermione could feel that layer of thin ice was going to crack anytime now. 

With house unity no longer an issue, the long tables in the Great Hall now sat all students from different houses and she found herself, once again, sitting with the three Slytherins regularly. She had to admit that Theo — when he wasn’t goading her — was actually a riot to be around; he had Daphne and her in tears at some of his impressions of the other students and professors, while Malfoy sat there scowling at everyone who dared look at him. 

Daphne had tried her hardest to get the two to talk, frequently asking their opinions on certain subjects in order for them to engage, but neither would budge in their dislike of one another. 

One Saturday afternoon in the library, Hermione was in her favourite cosy chair — tucked away in a back corner reading — when Daphne suddenly flopped down on the floor in front of her, snatched her book away, and looked up at Hermione with puppy eyes. 

“Something I can help with you, Daph?” Hermione sighed. She had a feeling she knew what that look meant. Daphne had a way of using her big expressive eyes to get exactly what she wanted. With her long blonde hair and baby blues, she was like a devious angel. 

“Why won’t you talk to Malfoy?” 

Hermione rolled her eyes. _Yep! Here we go again!_

“How many times, Daph? It’s not that I _won’t_ talk to him, it’s just that I have _nothing_ to say to him. And even if I did, do you really think he’d respond?” Daphne was about to interrupt before Hermione carried on in full rant mode. “He doesn’t like me. He never has and he never will, so what’s the point? I can see I still clearly annoy him, so it’s best if we just ignore each other.”

“Oh, Hermione. You know, for someone so smart, you can be really dense sometimes.”

“Gee, thanks Daph!” 

“Come with me,” the blonde demanded, standing and holding her hand out for Hermione to take.

Eyeing her skeptically, Hermione reluctantly let Daphne lead her from the library. 

“Where are we going?” 

“You’ll see. I’m going to make you change your mind about Draco Malfoy if it’s the last thing I do.”

“That may be soon if you don’t release me,” Hermione growled, not appreciating being pulled along towards the front door of the castle. 

“Just hush and follow me.” Daphne led her across the stone courtyard and over the grass towards the Black Lake. 

“Are you planning on drowning me until I give in?” 

“No.”

“Feeding me to the Giant Squid then?”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, would you stop?! I just want to show you something.” As Daphne rounded one of the willow trees at the edge of the lake, she whispered, “I’m going to cast a Disillusionment Charm over us and I want you to be quiet and just listen, okay?”

“Daphne, I really don’t think—”

“Please, Hermione. Just trust me.”

Hermione sighed, nodding, and giving into her friend. She knew Daphne wouldn’t stop until she succumbed to whatever hair-brained idea the witch had come up with to try and make her become friends with Malfoy. 

Daphne took her wand out, tapping Hermione on the top of her head until her body disappeared from view. Hermione shivered at the feeling of the spell washing over her, watching Daphne do the same. Feeling her friend grab her hand, she let Daphne guide her over to a tree close by where Draco was sitting on the grass with Theo. Daphne reminded her to stay quiet and just listen.

“I don’t get it, Draco. Why don’t you just talk to her and see what happens?”

“She hates me, Theo, and I don’t blame her. I wouldn’t want to talk to me if I was her.”

“You don’t know that. Hermione is a forgiving person. She forgave me when I apologised to her _and_ she’s friends with Daph now. You haven’t even tried talking to her.”

Hermione released a quiet gasp, Daphne applying pressure to her hand to remind her to stay quiet. They were talking about her, and Hermione couldn’t believe what she was hearing.

“You know, Draco, I’ve always thought that, if it wasn’t for everything that happened in the last seven years, you and her could have been friends.” 

Malfoy scoffed. “Sure, Theo. Whatever you say. Even without the Dark Lord and everything that went with that, she was still sorted into Gryffindor and made friends with the dunderhead duo. It would never have worked, and it doesn’t really matter anyway, what’s done is done. She won’t ever forgive me, and I don’t want to put myself out there to even try. It’s best if we just carry on as we are and ignore each other.”

“Come on, man. That’s not exactly fair on me and Daph, is it? I think we’ve made a nice little foursome since coming back here but it’d be nicer if you and Hermione would actually speak to each other. Why don’t you try apologising to her.”

“Oh, yeah! That would go down really well, wouldn’t it? I can just imagine it. Hey, Granger! So… I’m really sorry for everything that happened… you know… me calling you a Mudblood for years, teasing you for your heritage, your buck teeth, your wild hair, and generally being a prick. Oh, and also, you know, I’m so sorry for not helping you when my aunt was fucking torturing you on my drawing room floor. Yeah, I was a jerk. Whoops! My bad. Let’s be friends.”

“It’s a start, at least. Although I wouldn’t quite put it like that, mate.”

“Fuck off.” 

Hermione gripped Daphne’s hand a little tighter, her heart rate increasing as she continued to listen to the two young men in front of her.

“Wouldn’t you like to, at least, try? She may surprise you.”

“I’ve no doubt she would, but it wouldn’t be with acceptance at my so-called apology. She’d probably break my nose again and laugh while walking away. And, you know what? I wouldn’t fucking blame her.”

“All I’m saying is—”

“No, Theo! That’s enough,” Draco hissed, standing up abruptly. “She’s better off without me in her life and, when we finish here, she’ll never have to see me again. _That’s_ the best thing I could do for Hermione Granger right now.” With that Draco strode away, back towards the castle. 

Theo stood and looked around, frowning when he couldn’t see either Hermione or Daphne.

“I tried, Daph. Sorry, but you know he’s a stubborn prick.” 

Theo walked off in the same direction as the blond, while Daphne released the Disillusionment Charm on herself and Hermione. When the Slyherin witch looked across to her friend, she noticed tears spilling down her cheeks. 

“Oh, Hermione. Why are you crying?” she asked worriedly, wrapping her arm around her friend. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know he felt like that. I just thought he still hated me and didn’t want to talk to me,” Hermione whimpered, her breath stuttering as she tried to explain. “He thinks I’d just laugh at him or break his nose if he tried to apologise to me. I didn’t even know I broke his nose the first time.”

Daphne laughed at that. “Yeah, you did. But, to be fair, he was being a shit and totally deserved it.”

“Yeah, but still… I wouldn’t… I wouldn’t…”

“You wouldn’t what, Hermione?”

“I need to talk to him. Sorry, Daphne, but I have to go.” Hermione stood, wiping her cheeks with her hand and taking a deep breath before running off in the same direction as Draco and Theo. 

Daphne smiled to herself. _Mission accomplished!_

It was hours later when Hermione eventually managed to find Draco. She’d gone back to her dorm to clean herself up, and ended up lying on her bed to think about everything she had heard. 

Could she forgive Malfoy for all that had happened between them? Did he still believe in all the blood supremacy crap he’d been taught over the years? Could she see them becoming friends? 

She had to know, and it didn’t seem like Draco was brave enough to make the first move. So, being the Gryffindor she was, Hermione decided to find him and have a conversation. She knew he’d probably be quite offish and defensive, but it wasn’t in her nature to give up once she’d decided on a plan of action. She looked for him in the Great Hall during dinner but he wasn’t there. He wasn’t with Daphne or Theo, out on the grounds, or by the Quidditch pitch where he and Theo sometimes hung out. Hermione sighed as she trudged back up the hill towards the castle, vowing to speak to Malfoy in the morning, and headed for the library for the rest of the evening.

As she retrieved her book from her beaded bag, and headed toward her corner of the library, she heard a small cough. Peeking around the shelf, she spotted Malfoy sitting in her seat, his head down, reading intently. She cleared her throat, watching his head snap up in surprise.

“Granger.”

“Malfoy.”

They stared at each other, neither knowing what to say. Usually when they were together, Daphne or Theo were with them. 

Hermione took a deep breath, steeling her nerves, and moving towards him.

“What are you reading?” she asked, indicating towards his book.

“Pardon?” The shocked wizard asked, his eyes going wide in surprise.

“I asked what you were reading.” Hermione slipped into the seat opposite him, her eyes never leaving his.

“It’s… erm… it’s just a book Daph lent me.”

“Oh, yeah? Let’s see then.”

Draco slowly lifted the book up so Hermione could see the front cover, surprised that the witch was conversing with him. 

“Lord of the Rings. Really?” 

“Yeah, it’s good. Have you ever read it?” Hermione raised her eyebrows and watched Malfoy’s cheeks colour a little. “I forgot who I was talking to for a minute there, Granger. It’s a classic Muggle book. Of course you’ve read it.”

“Hermione.”

“Excuse me?”

“It’s my name... Draco. You can call me Hermione. And for your information, no, I’ve never read it. Fantasy novels aren’t really my thing. I tried to read it but I just couldn’t get into it.”

Draco was rendered speechless. One, she was talking to him. Two, she’d asked him to call her by her given name, and three, they were discussing a supposedly ‘classic’ Muggle book that she _hadn’t_ read. 

“I… er… so…” Draco cleared his throat. He sounded like an idiot. “Hermione,” he tested her name out on his tongue, liking the way it sounded coming from his mouth. “You’ve never read Tolkien? I thought he was kind of a big deal in your world, no?”

“Of course he is,” she smiled, settling back in the chair opposite. This was going better than she could have hoped for. “Just because he’s one of the most famous authors on the planet — and I like to read — doesn’t mean that I have to like what he’s written.”

“No, of course not. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just surprised, I guess.” Draco shrugged his shoulders and looked back down at his book, his blond hair falling across his forehead. 

Hermione grinned. “You don’t mind if I sit here, do you? It’s just that… well… I’ve been using this corner of the library since our first year. I didn't expect to find you here.”

“Oh,” Draco exclaimed, looking back up at her. “I didn’t know, I’m sorry… I’ll go.” He made to stand up, Hermione interrupting him with a small laugh. 

“It’s okay, Draco. I didn’t mean for you to leave. I just don’t feel comfortable sitting anywhere else when I read for leisure, and I normally don’t get interrupted when I’m back here. You’re free to stay, if you wish. It’d be nice to have some company for a change.”

He returned her smile before settling back down, picking up his book, and continuing on with the story.

Hermione could see him look over the top of his book, glancing over at her every now and then, and she smiled behind her own. After a couple of hours of quiet, companionable reading, she felt he needed to say something so placed her book in her lap. 

“Something you need to say to me, Draco?”

“What? No,” he said, blushing, his voice a few octaves higher than normal. 

“It’s just that you keep looking at me. Do I have something on my face?”

Draco reached up to rub at the back of his neck nervously before lowering his own book. Grey eyes meeting inquisitive brown as he sighed. 

“Our friends think we should try being civil to each other, Hermione. A couple of hours ago I would have disagreed with them, but…”

“But?”

“Now I’m thinking… maybe… we can do that.”

“Maybe.”

“We need to talk first, though. We need to clear the air. What do you think?”

“I think I’d like that, Draco.” Hermione smiled kindly, averting her gaze from his intense grey stare. 

Draco reached forward into his bag, retrieving a bottle of firewhisky, and transfiguring his book into two glasses. He filled them with generous measures and handed one to Hermione.

“Mind that glass. I’ve got to read it later.”

Sipping the drink slowly, Hermione coughed, not used to the taste of the bitter alcohol. She wasn’t really a drinker — except for the odd couple of Butterbeers — and could feel her cheeks heating up quickly. 

“So,” she began.

“So,” Draco replied. “I suppose I should start by apologising.”

“If you feel that’s necessary.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “You don’t? After the last seven years, you don’t think I need to say sorry?”

“Not if you don’t want to, or feel that you don’t need to.”

_Merlin, this witch was unbelievable. How could she not feel like she deserved an apology from him?_

Draco took a long drink before looking into her eyes. 

“I _do_ want to, and I definitely _need_ to.” 

Hermione nodded, looking down into her glass, swirling the whisky around. 

“Hermione, look at me.” 

Her head shot up. 

“I’m sorry! I’m sorry for calling you a Mudblood. I’m sorry for enlarging your teeth in fourth year. I’m sorry for everything single nasty thing I ever said to you. I’m sorry for picking the wrong side and more than anything…” Draco swallowed heavily and took a deep breath. “I’m so fucking sorry for what happened to you at my house and my role in it.”

“Draco—”

“No! Please! Let me…” Hermione’s eyes filled with tears but she nodded for him to continue. 

“I’ve lived with regret and self-loathing for so long now and... I’ve wanted to have this conversation with you so many times, I’ve lost count. I should have done more. I was scared… Merlin, was I scared! I didn’t want her to hurt you and I’ll have to live with hearing your screams everyday for the rest of my life.” 

Hermione stayed quiet, the moisture in her eyes threatening to spill over. 

Once Draco had taken another long gulp from his glass, he continued. 

“I haven’t believed in that blood supremacy bullshit since the end of fifth year, you know. How could I, really?”

“What do you mean?” Hermione whispered, her mind spinning with his words, the alcohol making her emotions flounder. 

“When grown Death Eaters harm children under the guise of fetching a fucking prophecy for a madman — and a half-blood one at that — it made me think… hard. That wasn’t right… it was… they are… were… just a crazy bunch of followers who couldn’t think for themselves and when Vold… He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named tasked me with killing Dumbledore and letting his Death Eaters into the school… I couldn’t comprehend what was happening.” They both drank deeply again. “He threatened my mother, you know. That’s how he got me to agree with his plans. He told me he’d let Greyback rape her and let his Death Eaters watch before they got their turn. What would you have done, Hermione? If it was your mother?” 

The tears did spill then, running down her cheeks as she looked into his anguished face. 

“I would have done the same thing.”

“I wasn’t given a choice due to the family I was born into and the decisions _they’d_ made throughout my life. But I couldn’t let that happen to my mother so I did as ordered… and I regret the way everything happened, you don't know how much. But I wouldn’t change a thing if it meant saving my mother from that situation again.”

“I understand,” Hermione sniffed, wiping her face with the back of her hand. 

“That still doesn’t excuse what happened at Easter.”

“Draco… there was nothing you could do. I’ve thought about this a lot over the last few months. I could see it in your eyes when _she_ was doing what she did. If you’d made a move, she would have killed you. I don’t blame you for any of what happened.”

“Thank you, Hermione. That really means a lot to me,” Draco replied his own eyes misting up at the intensity of the conversation they were having. “I never thought I’d get the opportunity to talk to you like this.”

“Me neither, and I’m glad we did. We should just put all of this where it belongs… in the past… and — if you’re willing — we could be friends.” Hermione blushed as the man in front of her smiled and she noticed how much his face lit up when he did so. Draco Malfoy was an exceptionally handsome wizard when he wasn’t scowling at everybody. 

_Wait, what? Okay, Hermione. No more drinking!_

Hermione laughed as Draco stood, walked over to her, and held his hand out — which she took. 

“Hermione Granger.” She smiled. “Muggleborn, Gryffindor, Brightest Witch of her Age, and all round swot. Pleased to meet you.”

Draco smirked before answering, her small, warm hand still enclosed inside his. 

“Draco Malfoy. Pure-blood, Slytherin, second only to the Brightest Witch of her Age at Hogwarts, and all round arsehole.”

They both chuckled at their drunken reintroductions to each other, Draco pulling her up from her chair, and wrapping his arms around her waist. Hermione froze at the sudden proximity of him towering over her, his strong frame wrapped around her. 

In her drunken haze she couldn’t say that she minded all that much, her nose nuzzled into the side of his neck, breathing him in. He smelt amazing — like fresh, clean linen with a hint of expensive cologne. 

After a few minutes, they pulled away from each other, both blushing and not able to look each other in the eye. 

“Right… well… erm… I’m glad we had this chat, Draco.” Hermione turned from him to pick up her book. But she did so too quickly, bumped into a wobbly Draco, and sent them both crashing to the floor. 

Sprawled across each other, they both erupted in fits of laughter. 

“Oh, my God! Draco, I’m sorry,” Hermione giggled, trying to right herself.

“You’re dr-drunked. No, no, that’s not right… you’re pissed, Granger!” Draco stayed lying on the floor, clutching his sides in laughter as Hermione clambered away from him. 

Once they’d gotten themselves under control and Draco back to an upright position, they stumbled from the library, arms wrapped around each other’s waists for support. 

Draco escorted Hermione all the way up to the seventh floor, making sure she made it to her dorm in one piece. He took her hand, placing a kiss to the back of it, and thanking her again for the opportunity to put things right between them. 

From that night on, they were inseparable. Daphne and Theo couldn’t have been happier they’d cleared the air and now the four spent all their time studying, hanging out, getting drunk, and just enjoying each other’s company. 

Draco had admitted to Theo on the walk back from The Three Broomsticks one night — the girls drunkenly dancing their way along and singing in front of them — that he’d been right. They did have a lot in common and got on wonderfully. He was grateful that she’d found him in the library all those weeks ago. 

“Told you, mate, she’s great.” Theo said, clapping him on the back. 

“Yeah, she is,” Draco smiled, watching the curly-haired witch bounce around in front of him as she tried to teach Daphne the words to some mad Muggle Christmas song she was bellowing out. 

Theo caught the look in his best mate’s eyes as he stared at the Gryffindor.

“And gorgeous, as well,” Theo added, waiting for Draco’s reaction. 

“Yeah,” Draco sighed dreamily, “she is… so pretty. So very pretty, and nice. She’s nice, right, Nott?” 

Theo laughed, slinging his arm around his friend's shoulder. “Yeah, man. She is… so very pretty.”

“Hey, you keep your hands ‘way from my fwiend,” Draco slurred. 

“Yeah, yeah, course, mate.” Theo smirked, knowing full well how much Draco’s feelings for Hermione had changed. 

“So pretty, and nice… and smart… and… Merlin, is she sexy or what, Nott?” Draco doubled over in laughter. “What, Nott! Ah, fuck, that’s funny. I’m funny!”

“Yeah, mate, you’re a hoot.” Theo helped his friend back upright and continued their walk back to the castle. “Why don’t you tell her?”

“Huh?” Draco hiccuped, his brows furrowed. “Tell who what, Nott?” He cracked up once again, tears of laughter leaking from the corners of his eyes. 

Theo rolled his own, clearly nowhere near as drunk as Draco. “Hermione, you tool. Why don’t you tell her how you feel?” 

“Yeah… yeah, I should. That’s a great idea.” 

But before Theo could tell him that _right now_ wasn’t the time, Draco had already called her. 

“Oi, Grang… Granger… HERMIONE!” he shouted, stumbling forward as the witch in question turned at hearing her name and held her arms out for Draco. 

He fell into her, both of them landing on the cold snow, and Hermione letting out an “omph” as Draco fell on top of her. 

“Idiot… whateryerdoingmalfoy?” She slurred, her eyes bright as she looked up at him lying atop of her. 

“You’re sexy, Granger… did you know? And soooo pretty and smart, and clever… so clever.”

“Sooooo are you, blond prat. So very pretty…”

They both cracked up laughing as Daphne and Theo stood above the pair, shaking their heads. 

“I wanna snog you, clever witch. Puuuurfect, pretty pink lips.”

Hermione reached up, her hands delving into Draco’s hair, and pulling him towards her until their lips met in a sloppy, wet kiss. He groaned at the feel of her warm mouth attacking his, biting her bottom lip until she gasped and his tongue slid inside, making her moan. His hands grasped the sides of her head, his body pressing into hers as they moved together. 

Daphne's mouth fell open in shock as Theo’s eyes widened at the display before them. 

“What… the… actual… fuck??” Theo rasped, unable to tear his eyes away as his two friends attacked each other’s mouths. 

“Well… that certainly answers my question about their feelings for each other,” Daphne replied. 

“Should we stop this? They’re both clearly pissed as Hippogriffs.”

“I… I don’t know, love. Should we?”

As they debated what to do, they heard Draco squeal as Hermione moved her hands down between their bodies, grabbing at the hardness pressed against her thigh. 

“Fuck, Hermione, don’t stop. Fuck… I’m gonna fuck you into the ground, you filthy little witch.”

Daphne and Theo turned to each other. 

“Yep, definitely enough,” they said together, both lunging for their friends — Theo pulling Draco away from Hermione, while Daphne pulled Hermione up. 

“What the… what the hell are you doing, Nott?” Draco spun, facing the stunned Slytherin. 

“Me?? You were about to do something you’ll both probably _really_ regret in the morning, mate. You’ll thank me later, I swear,” Theo told him, his hands up in surrender, trying to calm and placate the angry blond. 

“Bloody hell, Hermione. What in Merlin's saggy balls are you doing?” Daphne exclaimed, hoisting Hermione around the waist and draping the drunk girls arm over her shoulder as she walked them away from the wizards. 

“Me? It was all Draco’s fault.” Hermione leaned in towards Daphne's ear, like she was about to divulge some massive secret. “I think he wants to shag me, Daph. And you know what?” 

“No, what?” Daphne rolled her eyes as she tried to steady the swaying witch. 

“I woulda let ‘im. He’s so yummy. I woulda let him shaaaaag me.” Hermione laughed loudly into her friend's ear. 

“Yep, I’m sure you would have. How about we get you back to the castle now, Hermione, and you can tell me all about it in the morning?”

“Yeah, s’pose. I need to sleep,” Hermione slurred, slumping against her. 

“Fuck! Theo, help me,” Daphne cried, as Theo took Hermione’s other side and Draco swayed along behind them. 

“She got a right nice arse, you know, Nott,” Draco shouted. 

“Merlin… give me strength,” Theo growled, looking skyward. 

Theo and Daphne agreed it would be best for Hermione to share with Daphne that night rather than try to get her up to the seventh floor. 

Getting the drunk Gryffindor down the stairs to the dungeon was harder than it looked. But they finally managed to get her into Daphne’s bed, while Draco flopped down and passed out straight away on a couch in the common room. 

The next morning Daphne explained to Hermione what had happened — seeing as she had no recollection _and_ a raging hangover. She was embarrassed and tried to sneak out of the Slytherin lair without Draco seeing her but luck wasn’t on her side. He was sitting on the sofa, head in his hands, grumbling to Theo to “shut the fuck up and get me a potion for this hangover.”

“Morning, sunshine,” Theo called, seeing Hermione try to scurry past them both. Draco’s head whipped round, groaning loudly at the throbbing pain between his temples. 

Laughing at the mortified expressions on their faces, Theo stood and headed for the door. 

“I’ll leave you both to… talk,” he smirked, turning around as he reached the secret entrance. “Try not to… what was it? Oh, yeah… fuck her into the ground, eh, Draco?”

“Nott…” Draco growled, “fuck off!”

They heard him laughing as he exited the common room, Hermione and Draco still staring over each other’s shoulders, neither wanting to look at the other. 

“So,” they both said together and then laughed quietly. 

“Last night was a bit mad,” Draco said, his eyes finding hers. 

“Honestly, I don’t remember. Daph told me what happened. I’m really sorry, Draco. I was so drunk.”

The blond’s brows furrowed. “It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he told her. She looked like he’d just stood her in front of a firing squad to await her execution, anxiety rolling off her in waves. 

“We’re friends, right?” She spoke quickly. “And I don’t want to ruin that, so let’s just forget it, okay?”

Draco nodded. “Sure.” It was the only word he managed, letting her off the hook so she could escape — as she clearly wanted to do. 

Hermione raced away from the dungeons. The feelings that were bubbling up inside her concerning her blond friend were about to overwhelm her. Daphne had tried to get her to admit it, but she wouldn’t. Hermione was sure Draco wouldn’t be interested in her ‘in that way’ and it had just been confirmed with his easy acceptance of her apology and vow to forget all about it. 

So that’s what they did. 

It was uncomfortable for a few days but things soon went back to normal between them. Daphne and Theo had kept on at the pair in private about their obvious mutual feelings for one another, but they were both so stubborn and refused to admit anything. 

As the year went on, plans were discussed as to what each of them would be doing once they left school for good in June. 

Draco and Theo would be going to work for Malfoy Industries, while Hermione was looking to find a Potions Mastery course to start. Daphne was undecided about what she wanted to do and Hermione was helping her figure out what it was she wanted out of life. As a pure-blood witch, she wasn’t expected to work but she’d already told her friend she needed to. She _wouldn’t_ and _didn’t_ want to become one of those women who spent their days entertaining and doing charity work. 

Hermione planned to open her own apothecary once she’d become a Potions Master, Draco telling her she’d be excellent at it fuelling her desire to make it happen. 

As summer drew ever nearer the foursome studied hard for their N.E.W.T exams but Draco noticed a shift in mood from Hermione. He often looked up from his studies to find her gazing out the window lost in thought. 

After lunch had finished one day he suggested she take a walk with him. As they strolled around the edge of the Black Lake he asked her what was wrong. 

“I had an acceptance letter to Monsieur Levante’s Potions Mastery Institute in Paris.”

“What? Wow, Hermione. That’s amazing,” Draco exclaimed, genuinely delighted for his friend. But she didn’t seem that excited. “What’s wrong?” he asked, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “You don’t seem that happy about it. That’s the best Potions Institute in the world.”

Hermione sighed, laying her head against his shoulder. “I know it is and, honestly, I’m over the moon but the course doesn’t start until the end of July.”

“Okay,” Draco replied, confused as to what the problem was.

“It means I have nowhere to live for a month, unless I want to crash at Grimmauld Place with Harry, Ginny, and Ron. Which I don’t want to do.”

_Ah!_ Now Draco could see the issue. Hermione had told him about her parents, how she’d been unable to reverse the spell she’d used on them, and how their house was sitting empty but she didn’t want to go back there.

“Well, that’s not a problem.”

“It isn’t? Because it seems like a huge one to me. If I go back to Grimmauld, I’m sure Ron will want to start something up with me and I definitely don’t want that. I don’t want to encourage him, or be under Harry and Ginny's feet. She’s going to be moving in with them this summer when she finishes here.”

Draco felt his chest tighten a little at the thought of Hermione and the Weasel in a relationship, but it didn’t seem to be what she wanted. He led them over to a cluster of rocks and sat them down, their backs against one of the larger stones as they stared out across the lake. 

“You could always come and stay at the manor with me, if you wanted. You know… until you have to leave for Paris.”

“What?” She asked disbelievingly. 

“It’s just an idea,” Draco replied, shrugging his shoulders. “We have plenty of space and it would only be for a few weeks.”

“It’s not that. It’s just… well…”

Draco understood, without her having to say anything else. 

“I realise that the last time you were there was when… well… you know. But Mother has had the place completely redone since then and… _that room_ has been closed off and sealed. You wouldn’t even have to go anywhere near it.”

“I don’t know, Draco. What about your parents? Surely they don’t want someone like me coming to stay.”

“Someone like you?”

“Yeah… a… a Muggleborn.”

“Hermione,” he called softly, using his hand to gently turn her head towards him. “You don’t have to worry about that. I think my parents have seriously re-evaluated their beliefs since the war. I’m not saying they completely agree with everything, but they would certainly have no problem with you staying with us… even my father. They do know we are friends now and, honestly? I think my mother would enjoy having a female around.”

“Can I think about it?”

“Of course you can. Just let me know so I can arrange to have a room set up for you.” 

Hermione smiled and nodded.

And she did think about Draco’s offer… a lot. She knew her feelings for the blond wizard were changing. The thoughts she’d been having about him since their kiss were far from ‘friendly’ and she didn’t know if she could stand living in the same house as him. What would happen if he brought a girl home? Hermione didn’t think she’d be able to stand it! 

But what other option did she have? 

She sighed loudly, pulling her curls in frustration, gathering her study notes and bag, and leaving to meet her three friends in the library. 

After a little encouragement from Daphne, Hermione told Malfoy she’d love to take him up on his offer and stay at his home until Paris, to which the blond wizard placed a kiss on her cheek and grinned widely. 

In the following weeks the foursome took their exams and celebrated on the final day with a huge party at the Three Broomsticks — to which all returning and current seventh years were invited — before boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very last time. 

Hermione had her head resting against Draco’s shoulder as the gentle rocking of the train sent her off to sleep. He moved his arm so she was cuddled against his chest, his hand rubbing up and down her back, his expression softening as he smiled down at the sleeping witch. 

Theo and Daphne smirked at him from their seats opposite. 

“Don’t start,” he grumbled quietly. 

“Mate, I just don’t understand why you won’t tell her how you feel,” Theo whined. 

“Because she doesn’t feel the same way, Theo. She made that abundantly clear the morning after our drunken kiss. I’ve been friend-zoned and... I’m okay with that.”

“Really?” Daphne asked, rolling her eyes. “What if she meets someone in Paris? Will you be so happy if she comes home declaring herself in a relationship with some French twit?”

Draco scowled at the pair. _No!_ He definitely would not be happy with that. 

“Just tell her, Draco. You might be surprised with her answer.”

“I can’t, Daph. If she doesn’t feel the same then it’ll be awkward as fuck. She won’t even want to remain friends, and… to be honest… that’ll kill me. I’d rather have her as a friend if that’s _all_ I can have.” 

They were quiet then, Theo and Daphne sharing worried glances. They knew their two friends were crazy about each other and both too scared to admit it. They’d have to do something to help. 

As it turned out Draco didn’t need any help from either of his conniving Slytherin friends. He and Hermione settled into a routine fairly quickly once they’d arrived at Malfoy Manor. Introductions had been made with his parents, Lucius and Narcissa, both being cordial and polite to the Muggleborn witch. 

After dinner each evening with the Malfoys, Draco and Hermione would spend their time in her suite of rooms opposite his own. They would talk, read quietly together, or discuss their upcoming ventures. Once or twice they’d had Daphne and Theo over, the foursome reminiscing about their year together at Hogwarts with copious amounts of Firewhisky involved. 

The night before Hermione was due to leave, Draco was sitting on one of the couches with Hermione’s head in his lap as they talked, his hand raking softly through her curls. It still shocked him how close they had become and how comfortable they were around each other.

“I’ve been thinking...” he began.

“Don’t strain your brain too much there, Malfoy,” Hermione giggled.

“Haha, very funny. Seriously though. I have something to ask you.”

“Oh, yeah?” she asked, sitting up to face her friend.

“Yeah. The thing is, Hermione… being here with you has been great and, honestly, I couldn’t imagine being here without you now.” He gulped as he watched her brown eyes widen. “It was always so lonely for me growing up here. Mother and Father always retired to their wing after dinner and I would either wander the halls or sit in my room reading, and I really don’t want to go back to that.”

“I’m sorry, Draco,” Hermione replied sadly, thinking of him all alone in this big manor house.

“It’s okay. It was what I was used to. But I’ve come to really enjoy having you here and, if I’m being truthful, I don’t want to live here full-time anyway. So… I was wondering if… that… when…” Hermione frowned as she watched him release a deep breath and take her hand in his. “I realise that, when you get back from Paris, you won’t have anywhere to live so I wondered if you would... maybe… like… to…”

“Merlin, Draco… spit it out,” Hermione laughed.

“Damn it,” he growled, growing frustrated and running a hand through his hair. “Would you like to get a place together? As roommates?” he quickly tacked on at the end, before she got the wrong idea and rejected him. 

“Oh, wow, Draco. I… erm…” Hermione stood and began pacing in front of the French doors that lead out to a beautiful balcony overlooking the gardens. 

“You don’t have to, Hermione. It was just an idea.”

“No, no. It’s not that I don’t want to.” Inside Hermione was jumping for joy. Live with Malfoy? In their own place? Yes fucking please!! 

_BUT!_

Hermione had no intention of spending her mornings entertaining Draco’s latest conquest over breakfast. She didn’t think her heart could bear it. She’d gone and fallen in love with him and didn’t want to see _any_ girl within a hundred feet of him… unless it was his mother, or Daphne. If they were to do this then ground rules would have to be laid. 

“Hermione, come and sit back down and tell me what your worries are about this.”

She sighed as she made her way back over to him, leaving space between them on the sofa so his delicious scent wouldn’t fog her brain while she tried to explain her concerns — without giving away her true feelings. 

“First of all, I’d love to live with you, Draco. But I won’t be sharing my morning cereal with whichever tart you’ve brought home the night before.” She immediately blushed and dipped her head, her voluminous curls hiding her pink cheeks. Her jealousy was clearly written across her face.

Draco snickered as her obvious embarrassment. “You don’t have to worry about that, Granger. Witches are the last thing on my mind right now.”

She looked back up at him, smiling softly. “Where would we love? I mean live! Shit! I mean, where would we live?” Her cheeks flamed red as Draco arched one eyebrow and winked at her, laughing loudly. 

“We’d love together in Muggle London, I suppose,” he exclaimed, falling back against the sofa, holding his sides as he howled with laughter. 

“Oh, shut up, prat! You know what I meant.” Hermione swatted him playfully, all thoughts of other witches gone in her embarrassment. 

“No, no, Hermione. If you want to love with me, I’m more than willing to accommodate that.”

“Oh, for God's sake, Draco. Be sensible. I didn’t mean… _that!”_

“Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, wiping the tears from his face. “Suggest some places in Muggle London and, while you’re in Paris, I’ll start house hunting for us. How does that sound?”

“Wonderful,” she said, rolling her eyes, thinking of the ostentatious places he was sure to pick out. It wasn't that she couldn’t afford it — her parents were far from poor, and she’d been left a very healthy inheritance from her grandmother a few years back that she received when she turned eighteen. She just didn’t want to live anywhere too gaudy. “Send me pictures of places you find while I’m away, but I suppose you should start looking around the West London area. Chelsea, Knightsbridge, Belgravia.”

“I will. I’m going to owl you everyday anyway.”

“Really?” Hermione asked, her breath catching in her throat at the suddenly serious look on his face. 

“Of course.” Draco moved closer to her, his fingers under her chin, lifting her face towards his. “I’m really going to miss you, Granger,” he whispered, dipping his head and placing a soft, chaste kiss on her lips. 

Hermione’s heart stuttered as his full lips pressed against hers. He pulled back and stood, bidding her goodnight, and heading across the hall to his own room. 

They didn’t mention the kiss they’d shared the evening before as Hermione readied herself for departure by Portkey to Paris, but Draco was unusually quiet that morning, casting glances in her direction across the table at breakfast, leaving Hermione with a constant blush staining her cheeks.

He escorted her to the Malfoys’ receiving room and they waited together until the golden hair clip he had gifted her to use as the Portkey started glowing blue. He pulled her into him, his hands around her waist. “Have an amazing time, Hermione.”

She looked up into swirling grey eyes. She really was having second thoughts about leaving him but she knew she had to do this — for her future, and for her heart. Maybe some time away would ease these soul crushing feelings for the man currently holding her. 

“I will. I’ll owl later and let you know what the accommodation is like. Don’t forget to keep me informed on any places you find for us, and let me know how work goes.”

“I will,” he breathed, kissing her cheek and stepping back before he was pulled to Paris with her.

~o0o~

**_Present Day_ **

Hermione took her tea over to the small desk in her lounge so she could reply to Draco’s letter.

_Draco,_

_Hi. First of all you know how the course is going, because I’ve answered every one of your letters since the day I got here, you bloody prat!_

_I’m sorry you’re struggling being at the manor. You know I’ll be Portkeying in on December 23rd as we’ve discussed. It’s only another week away! And I’m also sorry your parents are giving you a hard time. Tell them to sod off and that you’re living your own life._

_You haven’t given me much information on the place you’ve found for us. Why the big secret? Can we go see it when I get back?_

_Miss you._

_Hermione x_

With his next letter Hermione found out they had a viewing booked for lunchtime on the day of her return, and that the house was in Wilton Square, Belgravia. He’d told her it was perfect, newly restored, and modernly decorated. She’d been surprised he’d picked a house rather than a flat — or in Malfoy’s case — a penthouse apartment somewhere over looking the Thames. She was excited to see it and — if she was being honest — Draco himself. She had missed him like crazy and, rather than the time spent apart making her feelings diminish, it had only made things worse.

Daphne had kept in touch telling the lovesick witch how miserable Draco had been since she left, and how he hadn’t been out or spotted with any witches at all. He’d been spending all of his time either at work, at the manor, or at Daphne and Theo’s house. This pleased Hermione immensely and she was starting to wonder if a relationship with him would be possible, after all.

As soon as she’d landed back at Malfoy Manor, Draco had enveloped her in a hug, spinning her round and peppering her cheeks with kisses.

“Merlin, I’ve missed you, Granger,” he exclaimed, dropping the dizzy witch back to her feet. 

She laughed, cupping one of his cheeks in her hand. He turned his head, kissing her palm, then taking her hand in his own and walking her over to the fireplace.

“I managed to get us an earlier viewing so we have to go now,” he told her excitedly.

“Oh… erm… okay,” Hermione responded, a little flabbergasted at his enthusiastic welcome. 

Draco shouted out their destination and went first, grinning at her as he whooshed away. Hermione let out a huge breath, holding her hand to her heart before stepping in and following.

She stepped out into the most fabulous room she’d ever seen. It was huge, with floor to ceiling windows in front of her letting in the sunlight, and gleaming parquet flooring. It looked bigger as it was unfurnished. 

“Wow,” she exclaimed, turning around slowly to take it in. 

“That’s what I said,” Draco told her as he took her hand to start giving her the grand tour. 

“How were we able to Floo in?”

“I went to one of my father's business associates who deals in Muggle properties.”

Hermione was speechless as Draco led her around the huge property. It had six bedrooms — all en-suite — three reception rooms, the most gorgeous kitchen she’d ever seen, a rooftop terrace, a study, and it even had a pool and sauna in the converted basement — all set over four floors. 

Each room was spacious, light, airy, and well appointed. She fell in love with the bedroom on the second floor — the only one on that level — the rest were set over the two floors above. 

The more he showed her, the more Hermione fell in love with it. She was almost scared to ask how much a place like this cost. 

After they’d finished the tour and returned to the manor, Draco asked his house elf, Bitsy, to set up lunch in the library so they could speak and make plans. 

“So, what do you think?” Draco asked, taking a sip of his wine. 

“It’s gorgeous, Draco. I think I’m a little bit in love with it, but…”

“But?” He repeated, arching an eyebrow. 

“Money isn’t an issue for either of us but it seems like it’d be quite expensive. It’s huge, beautiful, and in a very affluent area of London. Plus, do we really need six bedrooms?”

“I’d say it was an investment if we bought it, Hermione. Plenty of room for the future Granger-Malfoy children to run about in.”

Hermione coughed and choked on the wine she was drinking, spitting out the mouthful she had onto the table. 

“Th-the wh-what? The what!? What did you just say?” Her eyes were wide as saucers as she watched him move towards her, kneeling down on the floor in front of her seat, and taking her hands in his. 

_This couldn’t be happening. Surely she’d heard wrong!_

Hermione stared down at their joined hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” Draco barely whispered, waiting for her to look up. When she did, she gazed into the swirling grey of his eyes, completely entranced at what she found there. “Theo told me I had to be brave, and Daphne told me that if I didn’t say what I’m about to say then I deserved to lose you to some French twit for being a complete and utter coward.”

Hermione swallowed deeply. “And what is it you need to tell me, Draco?”

“Well…” he stared deeply into Hermione’s eyes, trying to convey what he wanted to say. “It’s just—” he took a deep breath “—I just love you, and it terrifies me!” 

Hermione’s heart was pounding against her ribcage, her palms sweaty, unable to look away from him as she gasped. 

“And… I understand… you know… if you’ve met someone in Paris. I just couldn’t let you go another minute without knowing how I feel. I—” 

“Draco. Shut up,” Hermione grinned, closing the gap between them and pressing her lips against his. 

His hands moved immediately, cupping her face as he leaned into her, deepening the kiss and groaning as her tongue ran across his bottom lip, demanding entrance. 

Hermione moaned as their tongues entwined together, her hands moving to the nape of his neck. She pulled away first, resting her forehead against his. Looking into his lust darkened eyes she said, “I love you too, Draco. I love you so much it consumes me. I haven’t thought about, or looked at anyone else, since the day we spoke in the library all those months ago... and I’ve missed you so much all I could think about was getting back to you before you met someone else.”

“That was never going to happen, love.” Draco stood, offering his hand for her to take, which she did. He pulled her into his arms, pressing a kiss to the top of her curls and Apparating them to the bedroom she’d had before she left. 

They spent time in the middle of the room just kissing, their hands roaming each other’s bodies, buttons slowly coming undone, skin pressing against one another until they were both naked. 

Draco laid her down in the centre of the bed, her curls a messy halo around her head.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly. 

Nodding, Hermione answered, “I’ve never been more ready, Draco. I want you.”

He climbed up onto the bed, crawling over her body until he was nestled in the space between her legs. His hand roamed up her thigh, bringing it around his hips, as his fingers trailed downwards to find her soaking. 

“So wet for me already?”

“Yes! Gods, Draco, I’ve thought of nothing else for weeks now. Please…” she begged. 

He entered her slowly, wanting to savour every feeling and making their first time together memorable. 

They spent the whole night and most of the next day learning each other’s bodies, what brought them pleasure, and basking in words of love and commitment. 

The next afternoon, with Hermione sprawled across his naked chest, Draco suggested they get up and start shopping for their new home. 

“I’d love that, Draco,” she mumbled against his neck, breathing in his cologne and smiling widely. Hermione couldn’t believe it. She’d passed her Potions Mastery quicker than any witch or wizard before her, and she’d come home to her best friend declaring his love and his wish to spend his future with her in the most stunning home she could imagine. Not to mention the best sex she’d ever had with the man she loved and cherished above all others. 

~o0o~

**_Valentine’s Day_ **

Hermione had been back in Paris for a few days, visiting with Monsieur Levante to discuss setting up her own apothecary in England and asking for his advice. 

She’d been happy with the outcome but now couldn’t wait to get home to Draco. She laughed to herself as she thought about the last six weeks. 

They’d spent Christmas at Malfoy Manor, spending their days between the holiday and the new year making love and purchasing furniture to set up in their new home before moving in on New Year's Day. 

Hermione had thrown a small fit when Draco had gifted her with the deeds to the house on Christmas morning with both their names on the paperwork and the price he had paid for it. She’d insisted on giving him half but, in the end, the sneaky Slytherin had won the argument by saying she would be paying for it the rest of her life by deciding to spend it with him. 

She called out for him as she exited the Floo, hearing him answer from the direction of the kitchen. 

Sighing happily at the sight that greeted her, Hermione took her coat off, crossing over to her wizard who was standing at the cooker with his back to her. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she leant up on tiptoes to kiss the back of his neck.

“Welcome home, love, I missed you,” Draco said, turning his head to press a kiss to her lips. “I’m making your favourite for Valentine’s Day. Why don’t you get comfortable in the living room? I'll be there in a minute and you can tell me all about your trip.”

“Okay,” she agreed, her trip the last thing on her mind. 

As Hermione made her way through the house, thinking how well they had decorated, with cream furnishings, light oak furniture, and their nick-nacks combined together, she couldn’t help smiling and exhaling a breath as she thought about how lucky she was. 

She entered the room they spent most of their time in and stopped dead. On the coffee table in front of the fire sat a humongous bouquet of red roses, a bottle of vintage champagne, and two crystal flutes. But the thing that had her frozen to the spot was the small red, open box. Nestled inside and shining brightly in the light of the room sat a platinum ring, showcasing a princess cut diamond, flanked on either side by smaller square diamonds circling the band. 

“What do you say, Hermione?” Draco whispered into her ear, making her jump. “Would you do me the honour of becoming Mrs Malfoy, and filling this house with little blond, curly-haired know-it-alls?”

She turned in his arms, tears springing to her eyes.

“Oh, Draco. There’s nothing I’d love more.”

His smile threatened to split his face as he leaned down to kiss her. Pulling back, he reached down for the ring and slid it into place on her left hand. 

“I love you, Hermione.”

“I love you too, Draco.”


End file.
